


Shadow Potter

by SlySama



Series: Unfinished Works. [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 00:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14759433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: I do apologize for some of the recent unfinished works, I uploaded them from a usb  and a computer that was slowly retiring. I may have evidently missed  some paragraphies and/or they were unstable and were already deleting themselves.I will get to it eventually.





	Shadow Potter

**Author's Note:**

> I do apologize for some of the recent unfinished works, I uploaded them from a usb and a computer that was slowly retiring. I may have evidently missed some paragraphies and/or they were unstable and were already deleting themselves.   
> I will get to it eventually.

SHADOW HARRY 

 

Harry has been left in a dark forest in the middle of complete and utter nowhere. He has no idea where he is. Its dark. It’s cold and he’s lying on the ground with only tatters left for clothes. He’s not sure what to think about that, he isn’t sure he wants to think about that. He’s not sure he wants to think why his left wrist is shackled with the chain that would have ground him to something, missing. The dragon iron that it was fashioned from was an intricate pattern of vines, leaves, acorns and pretty dragon scales where the chain had been snapped off. 

His glasses are missing but he seems to be able to see relatively easily. His body aches and burns as he tries to shift to a sitting position. He notices, as he does this, wincing, that his right arm has large gaping bite marks that appear to be not just seeping blood but a blue-white tendril mist that then starts to steadily wind around his arm as he stares aghast; was this his magic that he was seeing? Was it leaking out of him? He dearly hoped not but it was familiar, edging into the unknown though. He watched as it started to wind down to his dirtied fingertips; it almost looked like his fingers were emitting the tendrils instead. 

He rips the last of his tattered long sleeve and ties it tight around his forearm, hoping to stop the leakage. It manages but only just as the fabric starts to glow a bright sky-milk—the tendrils are seeping from beneath the material. He stands and wanders a short distance, wobbly and falls into a tree. 

He stares around and up into the peering canopy of trees that block out all light. It’s completely dark. There’s no sun. No moon but it’s probably night. There were forest noises all around, wild and eerily loud in the darkness. 

It crept in; the darkness. 

His body is heavy and his head light, he’s sure there’s blood at his temple; not that there wasn’t everywhere else. He takes a cautious step forwards and stops almost at once as he hears an owl hoot loudly to the right. 

He takes another few steps haltingly, body slow but again he stops. The brush is shifting to his left, but nothing appears so he keeps walking forward, eyes still there. He bumps into something this way; it’s large and thick and he falls backwards. He stares up in utter bewilderment; it’s a tree. A great honking tree—it’s roots are shifting, it’s branches are swaying. He stands hastily, eyes on the tree and walks slowly backwards. He hits something else and turns, slow in wariness, eyes closing momentarily. 

It’s another. 

He blinks, sways and turns as the first actually speaks in a deep resonating voice. 

‘Must come with us now.’ 

What? He’s lost his voice but he feels that it was lost earlier. His s, walked him over to the bookcases, stood and said, ‘This way’. Harry only had a second to stare at the boy like he was delusional before a hand went up, a book slipped forward and the cases slid apart. 

Oh. 

They walked inwards with the same orbs lighting the way through the hallway to a massive library. ‘Welcome to the Library.’ He snickered as he stared up at Harry, staring around the interior. Every wall was a bookcase that stemmed from floor right up to the ceiling, the dome at the top was even filled books, though he wasn’t sure how usable these were. 

There was two brown leather sofas with four matching armchairs in the centre with a coffee table placed between them that was equally scattered with tomes. There were a few cushions that he could see and he was sure that maybe one of these cases weren’t truly a bookcase. 

‘Take a seat, won’t be a moment.’ 

The words were quite clear but some distance when they were spoken. Harry jumped clear out of his skin, ‘Go on’ the voice said and, chest heaving he cautiously sat on the edge of one. 

 

‘Ah, there we are. I’ve been looking all over for that book.’ A book was dropped onto the coffee table before a man hovered onto the coffee table, brushing the books back with his hands. ‘Now then, you look a fright. We’ll get you all fixed up and explain.’ 

Harry went to open his mouth and swallowed painfully. 

‘Ah, yes. I expect you haven’t had anything to drink in some days.’ He held up a glass and poured from a decanter. ‘Here we are.’


End file.
